


This is Everything

by paspeurpasseul



Category: SKAM (France)
Genre: Childhood Friends, Friends to Lovers, Homophobia, Homophobic Language, Internalized Homophobia, M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-09-17
Updated: 2020-10-01
Packaged: 2021-03-08 01:55:16
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 6,979
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26517817
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/paspeurpasseul/pseuds/paspeurpasseul
Summary: Lucas is twelve years old the very first time he lays eyes on Eliott Demaury and his world is flipped upside down.This is it. The feeling that Lucas has been searching for his whole life: a feeling of newness, passion, and friendship like he’s never felt before.This is everything.Until it isn't.Eliott disappears from Lucas' life without a trace. Lucas tries to forget him, move on with his life, but when Eliott shows back up two years later that's a little easier said than done.Or: a childhood friends AU where Eliott makes Lucas question everything.
Relationships: Eliott Demaury/Lucas Lallemant
Comments: 25
Kudos: 50





	1. Chapter One

**Author's Note:**

> So....hi! This is my first attempt at a full length elu fic and I'm kinda terrified to post it. But also super excited. 
> 
> I pretty much have the entire fic mapped out and some chapters written so updates shouldn't be that far apart but I'm also not sticking to any kind of schedule. I'm not good at that. 
> 
> First, a big BIG thank you to my lovely friend @eliottsmec for helping me with this. She edits my mistakes and helps encourage me to actually write and makes me feel like I'm not totally shit at it :) so give her lots of love! 
> 
> I hope you decide to give this a chance and I hope you all enjoy! See you at the bottom :D

_I saved up all my sunshine just to see you more clear_   
_I'm a little short on solar but I haven't given in_   
_No, I'm going to hold you anyway_   
_And I'll do it without shaking_   
_Yes, I'll love you always_   
_And I'll do it without aching_   
_Yes, I'd give you anything, yes I'd give you anything_   
_I gave you everything_

_._

_._

_._

Lucas is twelve years old the very first time he lays eyes on Eliott Demaury.

It’s a sunny summer day and Lucas is bored. He’s always bored in the summer. His best friend Yann goes away for every summer vacation with his family and doesn’t come back until school starts up again. 

And with no other friends, it leaves Lucas feeling lonely and pathetic. 

Now, Lucas sits in his front yard, kicking the dirt littered around him distractedly, and watching the moving trucks pull up to the house across the street. The family that used to live there moved away several weeks ago and it has been big town gossip. 

_Who was going to buy the house?_

_What were they going to be like?_

_They’d have to have money to afford such a nice place._

Lucas doesn’t really care. The people that live on his street are just like that. Old and bitchy and love to gossip. He can’t help but hear when his mom’s “friends” come over for tea and all they do is drone on and on about whose skirt was too short at a school parents meeting and who they didn’t like.

And then, once the women left, he would hear his mom ramble to his dad about how gossipy the other women were and how much she hated nights like this. His dad would nod along and ‘yes’ his wife to death before she got bored of talking and would wander away, muttering quietly, “You never listen to me, Peter.”

He would look across the living room where Lucas usually sat in the corner, on the oversized armchair, forgotten homework opened on the coffee table in front of him once she shuffled out of the room and sip his beer. 

He would look both serious and amused when he would tell him, “Women, son. They’re a whole different species. Take your time finding one.”

And then he would turn back to the TV and continue to drink his beer. 

Lucas doesn’t care about his new neighbors.

He really doesn’t.

Until he sees _him_. 

He steps out of the passenger seat of one of the large trucks. He’s wearing a ratty old brown jacket, that’s covered in patches and dirt stains, even though it’s way too warm outside. His hair is messy, like _really, really messy_ and shines golden-ish red in the sunlight. His hands are stuffed into the pockets of his jacket and his expression just screams _fuck off._ He looks like he couldn’t be less interested in the going ons around him. He looks soft yet unapproachable. He looks gruff and unconcerned.

He looks on, uninterested, as his parents (Lucas assumes) begin to tell the moving people what to grab first and where to go. 

He leans back against the white pickup truck and kicks his foot up behind him. 

Lucas can tell he’s at least a few years older. Probably fourteen or fifteen if he had to guess. He just looks mature. 

The boy across the street shuts his eyes, preventing Lucas from catching the color of them, and tilts his head up just slightly. The sunlight catches his eyelashes and the sharp angles of his jaw and cheekbones.

Lucas bites his lip and wonders if it’s normal for him to think that this boy is beautiful. So _beautiful_. 

He stays like that for a while. Just standing, eyes closed, face neutral. And Lucas wishes he could know what he was thinking. Or if he wasn’t thinking anything at all and just enjoying the warm sun against his skin like Lucas had been before he arrived. He wonders if the boy is bored too. He wonders if he doesn’t care about moving here as much as Lucas doesn’t care about his new neighbors. 

Well, until now of course. 

The boy is snapped out of his peaceful looking trance however when the older man with wrinkles in the corners of his kind looking eyes calls out, “Eliott! What are you doing? There’s a lot to be done. Help me with this table.”

_Eliott._

It suits him. 

Simple but nice. 

“Eliott,” Lucas says out loud. Testing the sound of the name on his own lips. 

He doesn’t say it loud enough for the boy across the way to hear. It’s barely a whisper in fact. But, as if he had heard, Eliott chooses to look over. Eyes open and wide and right on Lucas’ own. 

Lucas should probably be embarrassed for getting caught staring. Which he is, kind of. He feels his cheeks heat with embarrassment and swallows his nerves down. But he doesn’t look away. It’s almost as if he can’t. 

The boy across the way just stares for a while. He doesn’t look away either. His face doesn’t give much away. He just looks on. Just as disinterested in Lucas as he was in the movement around him on the other side of the street. 

But then...the boy’s plump pink lips turn up around the edges. 

Lucas has to blink a few times just to make sure, check if he’s imagining it or not. 

But he sees it there every time his eyes open again. The boy is smiling at him, eyebrows raised, and eyes shining. 

_Blue._

Lucas can see them now - illuminated so beautifully by the bright rays of the sun. 

His eyes are a greenish blue color that makes the air in Lucas’ throat catch.

“Eliott! Come on!” 

And then the boy is sighing, rolling his eyes, and walking in the opposite direction - leaving Lucas confused and interested and absolutely captivated.

.

.

.

A few nights after that at the dinner table, Collette mentions them, and Lucas isn’t so uninterested in his mom’s words anymore. He perks up, wanting to know something, anything, about the mysterious boy in the brown jacket.

“I ran into the mom at the grocery store today,” she says. 

She smacks her red stained lips together and rolls her eyes. Lucas has always thought his mother coated her face with way too much makeup. Her lashes are always clumpy and caked with mascara. It looks uncomfortable to him. 

“Mary. She was okay. She was sweet. Had the most hideous shirt on though. Cheap looking. Her husband does some kind of technical thing involving computers for a living. Must pay well because she doesn’t have a job. ‘Stays home for her son’, she says.”

“You don’t have a job, Collette,” Peter sighs tiredly, scooping some mashed potatoes onto his fork and shooting a look towards his son like they have some kind of understanding. A secret language to communicate how annoying his mom was.

Lucas secretly wonders why his parents are together. 

It’s not like they actively hate each other but it doesn’t seem that they like each other either. They mostly just ignore one other, unless of course Collette is gossiping loudly to her husband. 

Lucas always wondered how they met and if they ever really loved each other. If they used to be different before they had him. He wanted to know if they were ever like the loving, adoring couples he saw on TV shows. 

He never asks though.

“Well, yes, but I’m not staying home to take care of Lucas,” she waves at her son dismissively, “I stay home because I want to. Plus, you know I’m trying to get my jewelry business off the ground! Why would you say that?”

Peter rolls his eyes, but Collette moves on quickly.

“Anyway, her son’s name is Eliott and he’s fourteen.” She huffs, side eyeing her husband. “Word is he’s trouble.”

“Trouble?” Lucas speaks up - surprising both of his parents with his sudden interest.

He sinks back in his seat at their confused gazes and just shrugs.

“Yeah,” Collette continues, “Lillian heard from Julie who heard from Linda that they moved here for a new start because the son was falling in with the wrong people at his old school. Started smoking, drinking and skipping class. Shameful. Apparently his own parents can’t even control him. Lucas, you stay away from that boy. You hear me?”

Lucas nods absently - trying to picture the boy he saw, the boy with the brightest blue eyes and smallest, kindest looking smile, doing all of those things. 

He doesn’t know if it quite fits. 

“I don’t need some older hoodlum corrupting my darling son.” 

Lucas scrunches up his nose in annoyance as Collette reaches across the table and grabs his chin lightly - her too long, purple painted nails scratching his cheek slightly. 

Peter lets out a loud unattractive snort. 

Lucas pulls his chin from his mother’s grip and she doesn’t say anything in return - just stands up, taking her barely touched food with her and scraping it carelessly into the garbage can. 

Lucas thinks about how truly wasteful that is. Just because they can afford food doesn’t give them the right to waste it. 

“Anyway, I’m going to call Julie.”

Peter grunts and Lucas doesn’t reply as his mom leaves.

They continue to eat in uncomfortable silence, the only sound in the room is the slow tick of the clock and the squeaks of the chairs as they shift in their seats, until Lucas can’t take it anymore and sneaks away to his bedroom, telling his father he had some homework to do. It was that easy to lie and get away from his dad. It was the middle of summer and Lucas had been out of school for weeks but all Peter did in response to Lucas’ words was look relieved that he didn’t have to pretend to want to talk to his son. Scramble to find questions to ask just to make conversation, or listen to answers he wouldn’t remember in the morning. 

Lucas really couldn’t wait until Yann was back.

.

.

.

The next time Lucas sees the blue-eyed boy, it is completely unexpected. 

Lucas rides his bike to the corner store with some money his father gave him - probably because it was Peter’s day off and he wanted to house to himself. Collette was over at one of her friend’s houses and Lucas had nothing to do but watch TV, eat, and wait for Yann to come back as he wandered around the house - voicing just how bored he was. 

Giving him the money was Peter’s subtle or not-so-subtle way of letting Lucas know he should go find something to do. 

Lucas stops short as he approaches the far left side of the building, letting his wheels slide and scrape against the pebbled road beneath them, and lets his feet fall firmly on the ground. 

The boy is leaning against the dirty brick wall, his foot rested against it just like it was the car, his boots were heavy and black and laced up to the top, tight on his calf. His hands were once again tucked away into his pockets, brown-golden strands of hair falling forward into his eyes, a lit cigarette tucked in between his lips. 

It’s a dark and cloudy day, the sun barely peeking through the shade of the clouds. 

Eliott hears him approach. He doesn’t move from his position, doesn’t startle in the slightest, just lifts his eyes lazily until they meet Lucas’. They stay there for a moment and Lucas swallows thickly, his nerves jittery and knotted up like he’s been caught doing something wrong - something he hasn’t done. 

Eliott’s eyes almost match the color of the sky today, Lucas notices. A light gray with hints of the blue shining through and even some specs of green. 

Just before the silence begins to get uncomfortable, Eliott’s eyes light up with recognition, he reaches up and pulls the cigarette from his lips, smoke pouring from them and clouding around his face. 

Lucas can’t help but feel like it doesn’t belong there. It looks wrong there; dirty and gross next to Eliott’s smooth, young looking skin as it shines under the daylight. 

The smell makes Lucas’ nose wrinkle.

“Hey,” Eliott chuckles, almost fondly, oddly enough, “you’re that kid from across the street right?”

He doesn’t really like that description of himself but decides not to argue. Because this boy was giving him the time of day, actually greeting him, and he has pretty eyes and pretty lips and the smoothest looking skin, and Lucas wants to be his friend so very badly.

Lucas nods. He stays in place, still half on his bike and half off, staring at the boy stupidly. 

Eliott nods, puffing on his cigarette, eyes not moving from Lucas’ own. He begins to squirm under the gaze. Lucas doesn’t know if the older boy means it to be but his stare is quite intense. It makes Lucas’ skin tingle and his cheeks burn hot. 

He looks down at his dirty white Adidas shoes and kicks the dirt. 

“What's your name?” The boy asks. 

It’s right then that Lucas notices how deep the boy’s voice already is - probably because he’s not focusing on how blue his eyes are now. Even at fourteen his voice dips low and soothing. It makes Lucas feel...warm almost. Like a fresh cup of hot cocoa would. 

It makes Lucas feel like his voice is too high. Squeaky, even. 

He looks up and answers quietly, making sure to keep his voice low, “Lucas.”

Eliott smiles around his cigarette, “Hi Lucas. I’m Eliott.”

 _I know,_ Lucas doesn’t say.

“How old are you?”

“Twelve.” He answers, making sure to keep his eyes on Eliott, stand a little straighter, and make sure his shoulders don’t slouch. 

“Hmm,” Eliott hums around the smoke hanging between his lips once again. Eliott’s eyes move over the younger boy now - moving from his feet until they are touching the top of him. Lucas swallows and looks anywhere but Eliott’s eyes when he’s finished sizing Lucas up. 

“You look older than twelve,” Eliott eventually replies.

Lucas doesn’t know if that's a good or bad thing and he isn’t sure he wants to know. So he just asks, “How old are you?”

He already knows he’s fourteen but he asks anyway. He doesn't want Eliott to get bored, move on, and stop talking to him. 

He had that kind of vibe. Lucas felt it radiating from the older boy. His aura was calm yet demanding. It caught Lucas’ attention and just wouldn't let him go. 

Lucas wasn’t sure exactly what it was but he knew it was _something._

Eliott seemed like the type to get easily bored. More of a wander than anything. His eyes screamed excitement and adventure. His smirk was dangerous and his happy smile seemed to hide something deeper, a buried secret, a shimmer of something dark but hopeful. 

It made Lucas’ emotions twist inside his gut. It made his eyes feel sleepy and his brain feel dizzy. He was captivated by the way Eliott’s large pink lips wrapped around the edge of his cigarette. How his body was lanky and awkward but he still managed to stand tall and look completely at ease with himself. Lucas was always second guessing himself - awkward and uncomfortable and out of his comfort zone. 

Maybe this guy was just a mystery to him. 

Lucas doesn’t reply but instead nods in agreement. 

He likes that Eliott was older than him. He likes that he had a reputation and a mysterious air about him.

Lucas doesn’t move or speak as Eliott tosses the cigarette onto the ground, digging it into the gravel carelessly with his boot. Lucas would normally tell a smoker how uncaring that was. How birds could eat that and die. But now - he doesn’t. He just follows the movement with his eyes, grips the handles of his bike tightly, and notices how large Eliott’s hands are. 

He doesn’t speak as Eliott walks closer - stopping only a few paces away - looming over him, much taller.

Lucas blinks up at him quietly, he bites his lip.

“You won’t tell anyone right?”

“Huh?” Lucas asks, eyebrows furrowing, genuinely confused.

“About the smoking. You won’t tell anyone you saw me smoking, right? Especially that big mouth mother of yours?”

Lucas blinks again. 

Once again, he isn’t sure he should be insulted. After all, his mother does have a pretty big mouth. He knew that better than anyone. 

And when the edges of Eliott’s lips lift up gently, Lucas decides he shouldn’t be insulted - he isn’t. 

He just nods, “Sure,” he shrugs, trying to seem casual. “I won’t tell.”

Lucas is surprised when Eliott reaches out, his hand touching the top of the shorter boy’s head. His fingers tangle into Lucas’ hair just slightly. He moves his hand back and forth quickly, ruffling the strands of brown, before finishing with a soft pat. 

“Thanks, kid.” He smiles before licking his lips and reaching into his pocket. He pulls out a green pack of smokes, pulling one out and needlessly tucking his behind his ear, his hair falling around it and hiding it perfectly. 

Then he walks past Lucas - leaving behind a strong smell of smoke and a faint one of a sweet smelling cologne. 

_Kid?_

The only other people to ever call Lucas that was older people. The men who worked with his father at the shipping yard. Yann’s dad and sometimes the teachers at school. 

It had never bothered him before but now, coming from Eliott’s lips, it made Lucas feel so small and silly. It made him feel so insignificant, like he was a baby compared to him

Lucas turns his head quickly, catching Eliott just as he begins to job across the street.

“I’m not a kid!” He calls out - just loud enough to catch the other boy’s attention. 

Enough for him to turn slightly, laugh loudly, and nod at Eliott. 

“Okay!”

.

.

.

Lucas isn’t here looking for Eliott. He swears he’s not. He’s really, _really_ not. 

It’s not like he’s been counting the days since the last time he’s spoken to the older boy. He just happens to know it’s been exactly nine days. And it’s not like he’s been staring out his window in the mornings before he leaves the house trying to catch the smallest glimpse of his new neighbor.

Lucas heard about the party from his mom who warned him to stay away from it because it was going to be nothing but older kids and “that troublemaker Eliott was going to be there”. But he knew his mom didn’t actually think he’d go. And normally, he wouldn’t, not after 7pm and especially not alone while Yann still isn’t home. But she also didn’t know that the exact reason she wouldn’t want him to is the same reason he snuck out of his window and biked here.

So, here he is. Feeling as small and alone as ever. 

He doesn’t know exactly whose house this is but he recognizes most of the people here. They’re all a few years older than Lucas but live in the same neighborhood so it’s not like he’s surrounded by strangers. But he’s definitely not surrounded by friends either. 

The living-room is dark and crowded and the music is way too loud. Lucas chokes on the stuffy smoke filled air and promises himself that if he doesn’t see Eliott in another ten minutes, he’ll leave.

Lucas is picking at the loose threads of his jeans when he suddenly feels a presence in front of him. He keeps looking down at first, thinking they’ll just pass, but when they don’t, he tilts his head up.

He recognizes the face immediately. Idriss. The brother of Imane, a girl in Lucas’ grade. 

He looks confused and dazed and slightly off balance as he looks down at Lucas. 

“What are you doing here?” he asks, his speech slightly slurred. “Aren’t you like ten?”

Lucas feels his cheeks burn in response to the older boy’s words. Lucas hates when older people make him feel like this. So small and insignificant. 

He opens his mouth to reply but before he can he hears a laugh. 

And not just any laugh - _his_ laugh - just as loud and beautiful and contagious as Lucas remembers. 

From behind Idriss steps Eliott. 

His face is flushed as red as Lucas’ currently feels. His smile is wide and happy and his eyes sparkling brightly even through the smog of the dimly lit room. He’s got a beer in one hand and an unlit joint in the other.

“No,” Eliott says, a chuckle in his voice, “he’s not ten. He’s twelve.”

“Oh I know you!” Idriss says, his eyes widening with recognition, “Uhm...you go to school with Imane. Lu...Lucas! Lucas something, right? Why are you here? Isn’t it past your bedtime?”

Lucas feels his cheeks burn even hotter as Idriss and Eliott begin to laugh. 

He clenches his fists at his side and swallows the nerves beginning to build in his throat. 

_Coming here was such a stupid idea._

He feels so small and stupid and out of place here. 

He truly feels the two years younger he is from Eliott right now. 

And he feels the pressure behind his eyes begin to build and he clenches them shut - willing himself not to cry. He takes a few deep breaths, imagining himself anywhere else but here.

“Hey,” a soft voice speaks suddenly, “are you okay? He was just joking.” 

Lucas’ eyes flutter open to meet Eliott’s. He’s closer now, leaning down slightly, Idriss having found something more interesting to do and wandering away. 

Lucas nods. 

He can’t help but notice how good Eliott smells. Like something warm and fresh mixed with a bit of alcohol. Lucas has never drank before but he definitely knows the smell. 

Something about the way Eliott is looking at him right now - less mischievous than the last time they spoke - something softer in his eyes. Calm and caring. It makes Lucas feel comforted. And brave.

So, he asks, “will you walk me home, please?”

Eliott smiles. 

.

.

.

“So, what were you doing at that party? You _are_ only twelve.”

Lucas huffs, looking over to the boy beside him with narrowed eyes. 

They haven’t been walking long and the silence between them has been comfortable. Lucas can tell Eliott is a little tipsy by the way he’s swaying slightly as they walk. It makes the younger boy smile. He doesn’t know why - it just does. 

Lucas is pushing his bike as he walks, wanting to be able to stand as close to the other boy as possible. 

To catch him if he falls or needs help standing that is. 

“Yeah, twelve. I’m not five. Plus, you’re only fourteen,” Lucas replies, he realizes his voice sounds bratty and exactly like a twelve year old but he can’t help it. He doesn’t want Eliott thinking he’s some dumb little kid. It’s not like Eliott is an _adult_ or anything. 

Eliott just chuckles, looking over to the younger boy with relaxed eyes and a soft smile.

“Have you ever even been to a party?” he asks, as if he already knows the answer.

“Sure,” Lucas shrugs, looking away so maybe it won’t be so obvious he’s lying. Lucas never was the best at lying. “I’ve been to loads of parties.”

Truth is that Lucas has been to exactly two birthday parties in his entire life and none of them included alcohol - only birthday cake and fruit punch.

Eliott laughs again and even though it annoys Lucas a little...he decides he likes that laugh too much to make it stop.

“Yeah, okay.” Eliott says. 

Then it’s quiet for a little bit longer. Again, not in an uncomfortable kind of way. 

Lucas looks over at Eliott again and this time he actually notices what Eliott is wearing. Dark jeans and a dark shirt and a black leather jacket that makes him look kind of mysterious and older. His hair is messy like always and Lucas can see the very light, barely there freckles on his cheek if he looks close enough. 

_Which he swears he’s not doing._

Lucas can only see his profile but under the moonlight his skin looks so soft and smooth and he notices that Eliott’s hair has more highlights of red then he realized before and --

“You’re staring at me.”

Lucas snaps his eyes away from the other boy.

“Am not.”

Eliott laughs again.

“Okay.”

“Seriously, I wasn’t.”

“I said okay!”

.

.

.

“Well, this is me,” Lucas says as the boys stop in front of his house. 

Eliott stops and turns, his head tilting down at the younger boy, his smile still ever so present. 

“I know,” he chuckles, “I live across the street remember?” 

Lucas feels his cheeks burn with slight embarrassment. _Duh._

“Oh, right,” Lucas chuckles back.

And then they just stand there face to face. It’s quiet but not uncomfortable. Eliott’s eyes are soft and open. His lips curling up just slightly at the corners. His hands are tucked away in his jacket pockets.

Lucas grips the handlebars of his bike tightly as his palms slide against them as the sweat gathers. It's something that happens when he’s nervous - like the first day of school or when he’s meeting new people. But he doesn’t know exactly why he’s nervous right now, or why Eliott makes him nervous. Maybe it’s because he’s older, or maybe it’s because he seems so relaxed with himself in a way that Lucas could never imagine having. 

And Lucas can’t help but love and hate this feeling at the same time.

He clears his throats and says, “Thanks for walking me home.”

Eliott nods, his smile widening. 

“You’re welcome.”

Lucas nods. And doesn’t really know what to do after that. 

So, he just stands there. 

But so does Eliott.

The air in between them seems to buzz. The light breeze of the night causes goosebumps to rise on Lucas’ skin and the hair at the back of his neck stands up straight.

Lucas doesn’t know how much time passes as they just stand there, looking at each other, but eventually Eliott lets out a chuckle. 

Lucas doesn’t really know what he’s laughing at, but that's okay. He doesn’t care. He smiles at the sound. 

“Goodnight, Lucas,” Eliott says quietly before turning and walking across the street before Lucas has the chance to reply.

Lucas watches him go - with butterflies in his stomach and a lightness in his chest - disappearing into his house. 

He doesn’t know exactly what to call this feeling but, yeah, he decides he really likes it. 

_Thanks to Eliott Demaury._


	2. Chapter Two

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey! I'm back with chapter two :) Thank you so much to everyone giving this little fic a chance and hopefully continuing to. It means so much to me.
> 
> And of course this honestly wouldn't be possible without @eliottsmec. Her support, ideas, and edits keep this fic going!
> 
> I'm kinda proud of this chapter so I hope you enjoy. It's a little short but an important one. They'll be getting longer from here.
> 
> WARNING: also just wanted to let you know that I've updated the tags so make sure you're checking them for anything that may be triggering for you before continuing! I'll be updating them as the story goes on as well.

.

.

.

It’s a week before Lucas’ 13th birthday when he hears the first  _ clink.  _ The noise he would soon come to realize is the distinct sound of a small pebble hitting his window. 

It’s the first night he walks over and pulls the glass up hesitantly - before seeing the last thing he ever thought he would. A wide-smiling Eliott with a blush on his cheeks and mischief in his eyes.

Eliott bounces on his toes and whisper-yells, “are you busy?”

Lucas laughs, shaking his head, feeling his heart flip just the tiny-tiniest bit.

“Can I come up?”

And that's how it starts. 

**_._ **

**_._ **

**_._ **

Lucas is 13 years old when he starts to notice the little things.

Lucas doesn’t mean to notice them. He really doesn’t. 

But he does. 

He notices how Eliott’s eyes crinkle lightly at the corners whenever he laughs. He notices how the left side of his top lip lifts just a little higher than the right when he smiles. And he notices the light scar just beneath Eliott’s right eye and he can’t help but wonder how it got there. He notices that Eliott’s eyes look darker under the moonlight and how he snorts when he thinks something is really, really funny. 

Lucas notices that he always has a joint or cigarette tucked behind his ear. How he bites his lip when he’s thinking really hard about something. How he plays with the loose strings on his jeans when he seems distant or deep in thought. How he probably needs a haircut but Lucas likes his hair longer and messy because it looks like it would be soft between Lucas’ fingers. 

Ever since that first night Eliott decided to throw rocks at Lucas’ window, they’ve made this a regular thing. Eliott will come and throw a rock or two, Lucas will laugh and his heart will flutter a little, even though he pretends it doesn’t, and then Eliott would climb up and the boys would just talk. For hours, all they would do was talk. And laugh.

A few weeks have passed since that first night, including Lucas’ birthday, which Lucas has been wanting to tell Eliott about. But he just hasn’t had the guts to do it. 

Instead, he listens to Eliott talk as they sit on the rooftop right outside Lucas’ bedroom window. He’s going on about this really boring sounding film called The Kid and how amazing it is even though it’s in black and white and has no sound. Lucas loves how expressive Eliott gets when he’s excited about something. How his eyes light up and his hands fly around in such an animated fashion. 

The younger boy can’t help the smile that spread across his face and just seems to stay there whenever Eliott is around. 

“What?” Eliott asks suddenly, his eyebrows raised and a small smile on his lips. 

Lucas shakes his head, “no, nothing. You just...seem to be really into all this movie stuff.” 

Eliott nods, “yeah, I guess I am. I don’t know it’s just always interested me is all. I’d love to write a film one day. Hell, maybe even direct one.”

“You will.”

Eliott tilts his head towards the younger boy, a sparkle in his eye, as he pulls the joint he has from behind his ear. 

“You sound so sure,” Eliott replies.

Lucas nods, “I am.”

“How?”

“If you want it enough....if you want anything enough, you’ll get it.”

Eliott laughs as he places the joint between his lips and lights up.

“Lucas Lallemant, the optimist, huh?”

Lucas smiles widely and nods as he watches the thick smoke pool in the air around them. His eyes track the movements of Eliott’s tongue and how it glides over his bottom lip - leaving behind a trail of slickness. Lucas swallows thickly, trying to pull his eyes and mind away from the thoughts looming in the back of his brain and the heavy feeling in the pit of his stomach.

He has some help when Eliott speaks -

“Hey, all this time we’ve been hanging out and I’ve never asked if you smoke.”

Lucas has thought about asking Eliott a few times to try but he’s always been too afraid. He doesn’t even really know why. Eliott doesn’t seem like the type to judge or ridicule. He’s sweet and kind. Something Lucas knew right away about this boy. Even from all those weeks ago when he spotted him from across the street.

Lucas pulls his knees up to his chest, wrapping his arms around them as the wind blows harshly, causing a chill to run through his body head to toe.

“Uhm, I don’t. I mean...Yann does or whatever but I’ve never tried.”

“Any particular reason?”

Lucas shakes his head no.

“Do you wanna try?” Eliott asks softly - holding the joint out to the younger boy. 

Lucas reaches out and takes the joint between his own fingers shakily. A little nervous. He stares at it for a few seconds, not really sure how to continue despite watching Yann smoke a million times before.

“It’s okay if you don’t want to,” Eliott says, his lips still turned up slightly at the corners, “I was just asking. No pressure.”

“No, I want to,” Lucas replies, “I just...I don’t know how.”

At that, Eliott’s smile widens and he turns his body a little so he’s facing Lucas, and holds his hand out.

“Here,” he says, “give me and I’ll show you.”

So, Lucas does. He tilts his body towards Eliott and lets him take the lead.

Eliott doesn’t take his eyes off the younger boy’s. Just stares softly, holding his gaze. And Lucas is powerless under it. Something about the tenderness in Eliott’s eyes, the calming effect of the blue, makes him relax. He’s not exactly sure what Eliott has planned but he knows he’s ready and he knows he trusts him. 

Eliott places the joint between his lips and leans forward slightly.

“When I exhale, you inhale, okay? Hold the smoke in your lungs for as long as you can before you let it go.”

Lucas nods.

Lucas remains still and silent as Eliott takes a long drag, a smile still playing on his lips. 

And then he leans forwards even further and everything seems to freeze. 

The hair on the back of Lucas’ neck stands, goosebumps begin to rise on the skin of his arms, his heart picking up speed inside of his chest. 

He almost forgets everything - almost forgets the rules and Eliott’s instructions, forgets that he’s not supposed to feel this way, forgets that he’s not supposed to want Eliott to move even closer, forgets he’s not supposed to wonder what Eliott’s lips would feel like against his own because that's not what boys do. Boys in movies, boys in school, they don’t imagine kissing other boys. They imagine kissing pretty pink girl lips covered in cherry lip gloss and--

Suddenly, Eliott is exhaling and Lucas’ response is natural. His lips part automatically and he inhales everything Eliott gives. He lets the smoke in, lets it burn his lungs a bit, lets the feeling slowly wash over him. He holds his breath until he can’t anymore and has to release the smoke. 

His body is practically vibrating and he doesn’t know if it’s from the buzz of the new drugs or the buzz from Eliott.

But he doesn’t get much time to think about it because then Eliott is laughing and inhaling again and starts to talk about The Kid again.

And the night goes on.

.

.

.

Yann comes back to town a few weeks before school starts.

He’s leaning back against his headboard, a joint loosely between his lips, his eyelids drooped with his high.

“What’s his name again?”

Lucas sighs, shaking his head.

Yann is a forgetful stoner.

“For the millionth time, his name is Eliott.”

“Right, right, how could I forget?” Yann nods with a lazy smile, “Eliott - older, cool, lives across the street. Your new best friend.”

Lucas rolls his eyes, scooting a little closer to his friend, legs crossed and smile high.

Yann’s hair is a little longer than when he left, but otherwise he’s the same old Yann. Sarcastic, funny, stoner: Yann.

“Shut up.”

“No, I’m serious,” Yann says, taking a drag of his smoke, “I go away for a few months and all of a sudden I’m replaced? Years of friendship flushed right down the toilet.”

He clicks his tongue with a ‘tsk’, shaking his head, and widening his eyes.

Lucas can tell he’s joking but also kind of not joking. Yann’s always been a bit protective of Lucas, especially when it comes to other people. Lucas had never had the best luck making friends until Yann came along in the 2nd grade. 

Lucas was always smaller than the other kids, maybe a little shy, and a lot angry. So, he was an easy target for the older, bigger kids. 

But then Yann transferred to his class and everything changed. Lucas started to laugh. Started to learn what friendship was. He learned that there were kids like him - kids who just wanted to play and laugh and talk. Or at least one. Yann.

And they’ve been best friends ever since. 

“Hey,” Lucas replies, “it’s not my fault you disappear every summer. I have to find something to pass the time.”

“Yeah, yeah, whatever.”

“Plus, I’m just saying that I think you’d like him too! He’s like super chill and likes movies and loves skating and--”

“Lucas,” Yann laughs, “you’ve literally already told me all of this.”

Lucas feels his cheeks heat a little in embarrassment because of his excitement over his new friend.

Yann exhales - the smoke touching Lucas’ face softly. 

He inhales and his mind immediately goes back to a few nights ago.

_ Eliott.  _

How sweet his breath was mixed with the taste of the weed. How soft his eyes were, how happy his smile was, how Lucas dreamed of that smile that very night. And how it made him feel both wonderful and guilty.

“Hey, can I have a hit?” Lucas asks, reaching out for the joint. 

Yann’s eyebrows shoot up in surprise almost like Lucas is speaking a different language.

“Oh, you smoke now too?” he asks. 

Lucas nods with a smile - almost proud of his new adventures. 

“Eliott showed me how.”

Yann nods, a slight smile on his lips, “oh did he now? Well, I really have to meet this kid then.”

He passes the joint over to his friend and watches carefully as Lucas takes a big inhale, the smoke immediately burning his throat and filling his lungs. 

“What else did I miss while I was gone?” Yann asks, “you try any hard drugs for the first time? Have a job yet? A girlfriend?”

Lucas ends up choking on a laugh as he exhales before he reaches beside him and grabs a pillow - tossing it at his friend’s face.

_ Fuck, he’s really missed Yann. _

.

.

.

The first time Lucas hears the word it catches him off guard. 

Not the word itself but the way it’s used. How much hatred and venom is behind the word. How  _ angry _ his father’s voice sounds. 

His father is a generally mellow person. He never really raises his voice or has a problem with anybody. It’s his mom that has the temper.

Today, however, is different.

“Word around work is that he’s a  _ faggot _ .”

They’re sitting around the dinner table eating and as usual Lucas is mostly quiet. Unlike usual, however, his dad is doing a lot of the talking. Starting with some new guy at his office that he obviously doesn't care for. 

“Oh?”  Collette says casually, seemingly unbothered by Peter’s aggression as she leans back in her chair, looking at her nails and ignoring her food. “Who says?”

Peter stabs a piece of steak on his plate, “James said he saw him walking down the street holding hands with a man.”

“Hmm,” Colette hums. 

“Yeah, I don’t know what the higher ups were thinking. Hiring a guy like that,” Peter continues, his eyebrows furrowed and his lips tight with his rage, “of course they probably didn’t know. He’s not like the _fairy_ ones. He’s good at hiding it. I don’t want him walking around that fucking office though or at least not near me.”

“What’s a faggot?” Lucas asks. 

He doesn’t really mean to. Any time he can avoid a conversation with either of his parents is a win in his book. But he can’t help it. He’s too curious. Why this _one_ person, this one _word_ , gets such a rise out of such a chill guy like his father.

Peter looks up at his son. Eyes narrowed.

“A faggot is a man who has sex with other men, son. A homo.”

Lucas just continues to stare, his heart suddenly beginning to pick up speed.

“A gay. A man who kisses other men. A pervert, you know? Someone you don’t want to be associated with.”

“Those are the kinds of people who are going to hell, honey. Like adulterers and people who get abortions,” Collette adds in casually.

And at those words Lucas feels his stomach hollow completely. He lets his hands slip from atop the table and onto his lap.

He doesn’t really know what he’s feeling. But he knows he doesn’t like it. The pounding of his heart, the heat rising on his neck, the pressure building behind his eyes. 

He closes his eyes and tries not to listen as his father continues to rant -- 

“It’s just immoral is what it is. And unnatural. Those kinds of people are just _broken_. God made men to be with women and I just don’t….”

A buzz begins to drown out his father’s words - hurting his ears and clouding his mind.

He thinks about the way he stared a little too long at Eliott’s lips the other night. How he imagines what his hair would feel like between his fingers. What the older boy’s skin would feel like against his own in the dead of night. He wasn’t just _wrong_ for thinking that way apparently, he was  _ fucked up. _

_ Broken. _

_ Pervert.  _

_ Immoral. _

_ Faggot.  _

The words swirl through Lucas’ mind. Sounding harsher and harsher with each pass. Each syllable hitting him like a punch to the gut, a knife to the chest. 

And all he can think is Eliott is the most beautiful person Lucas has ever met. Inside and out. He’s the last thing Lucas would want to break. 

Lucas gets up from the table as the first tear falls, not bothering to ask to be excused, he doubts his parents will even notice he left. And makes his way to his room.

Tonight he doesn’t dream of Eliott. 

He doesn’t dream of anything. 

Because he doesn’t sleep. 

The constant mantra in his head not quieting for a moment.

_ Broken.  _

_ Broken. _

_ Broken. _

_ Faggot.  _

_ Faggot.  _

_ Faggot. _

_ You.  _

_ You. _

_ You. _

And for the first time since it’s started, when he hears the clink of a pebble against his window, he ignores it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Comments would mean the world <3 they give me inspiration to keep writing and posting.

**Author's Note:**

> Don't forget to tell me what you think :) comments would be lovely. 
> 
> I'm @paspeurpasseul over on twitter if you wanna come say hi!


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